Hattie Potter Book 1
by The Hatter's Madness
Summary: The Story of Hattie Potter  femHarry  please read Author's Note inside.


Disclaimer: I do not own anything that is originally the property of J.K. Rowling. I am merely her adoring fan with too much free time on my hands.

Author's Note: Dear Readers, I have always wondered, as I am sure some others have, how the story of Harry Potter would change if that 50/50 chance that he would be born a boy went the OTHER way and he was born a girl. While I originally posted this in it's full form, I've had a change of mind with it. It makes even me edgy, despite all my disclaimers, to repost the Harry Potter story in its entirety. Yeah, it's for my femHarry idea, but it doesn't feel like it will come across right no matter what I write in my disclaimer. No matter how many disclaimers I put up I'm going to have dissenters. Maybe even someone who makes more out of it than it really is. And even then, not everyone will want to read the _whole_ story just to get to the major changes. So, here is my plan B. Instead, I'm going to post an "abridged" version, lingering only on the scenes that have actually been _altered_ because Harry is a girl and not a boy. Then, further along, in later books, the changes will all make sense. I still have the full version of it for my own amusement. So, without further ado, the abridged version of "Hattie Potter".

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(_Book1_,_ Chp 5_)_ Hattie_ _is in Diagon Alley buying her school robes_,_ and meets Draco Malfoy for the first time_.

* * *

Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve.

"Hogwarts, dear?" she said, when Hattie started to speak. "Got the lot here – a young man being fitted up just now, in fact."

In the back of the shop, Hattie found herself face-to-face with a beautiful boy with a pale face defined by sharp angles, set with silver eyes framed by dark lashes and complemented by thin, sneering lips, and framed by halo of silver-blond hair. He was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. He caught her eyes with haughty interest and Hattie found herself quickly looking away, blushing feeling strangely self-conscious. Madam Malkin stood Hattie on a stool next to him, took her measurements, then slipped a long robe over her head, and began to pin it to the right length.

"Hello," said the boy, his tone overtly friendly. "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes," murmured Hattie shyly.

"My father's next door buying my books and Mother's up the street looking at wands," said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own."

Hattie peered at him from behind her hair.

"Have _you_ got your own broom?" the boy asked.

"No," said Hattie.

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No," Hattie whispered, her eyes shifting down and wondering what on earth Quidditch could be.

"_I_ do – Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my House," the boy said impressively, "and I must say, I agree. Know what House you'll be in yet?"

"No," said Hattie, who, feeling more stupid by the minute, was overcome by a strange sense of humiliation and blushed even deeper.

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been – imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"Mmm," said Hattie, wishing desperately she could say something a bit more interesting.

"I say, look at that man!" said the boy suddenly, nodding toward the front window. Hagrid was standing there, grinning at Hattie and pointing at two large ice creams to show he couldn't come in.

"That's Hagrid," said Hattie, pleased to know something the boy didn't. "He works at Hogwarts."

"Oh," said the boy. "I've heard of him. He's sort of a servant, isn't he?"

"He's the gamekeeper," Hattie corrected.

"Yes, exactly. I heard he's sort of _savage_ – he lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed."

"I think he's wonderful," said Hattie defensively.

"_Do_ you?" said the boy, now with a slight sneer. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead," said Hattie shortly. She didn't feel much like going into the matter with this boy, no matter how beautiful he was.

"Oh, sorry," said the boy, not sounding sorry at all. "But they were _our_ kind, weren't they?"

"They were witch and wizard, if that's what you mean."

"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?"

But before Hattie could answer, Madam Malkin said, "That's you done, my dear," and Hattie hopped down from the footstool.

"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose?" said the beautiful drawling boy.

Hattie paid for her witch's robes and school uniforms. She was rather quiet as she ate the ice cream Hagrid had bought her (strawberry and cream with chocolate syrup).

* * *

(_Book 1_,_ Chp 6_) _Hogwarts Express when Hattie meets Draco Malfoy for the second time_,_ and she choses Ron_'_s friendship over his_.

* * *

Three boys entered, and Hattie recognized the middle one at once: It was the beautiful, pale boy from Madam Malkin's robe shop. He was looking at Hattie with even more interest than he'd originally shown back in Diagon Alley.

"Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Hattie Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, it is?"

"Yes," said Hattie. She was looking at the other boys. Both of them were thickset and looked extremely mean. Standing on either side of the pale boy, they looked like body guards.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said the pale boy carelessly, noticing where Hattie was looking. "And my name's Malfoy. Draco Malfoy," he said with a charming smile.

Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. Draco Malfoy looked at him.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father's told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."

He turned back to Hattie, a smile playing on his sneering lips, as though inviting Hattie to join in the fun. When she said nothing, he said, "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are better than others, Hattie. You don't want to be mixing in with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

He held out his hand to take Hattie's, another charming smile adorning his arrogant face. Hattie peaked over at Ron, who appeared hurt and worried, staring resignedly at the floor. Hattie turned back to Malfoy.

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thank you," she said coldly.

Draco Malfoy didn't go red, but a pink tinge appeared in his pale cheeks and his smile faltered.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he said slowly. "Unless you're a bit more polite you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riff-raff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you."

Both Hattie and Ron stood up. Hattie wondered to herself how someone so beautiful could be so horrid.

"Say that again?" Ron said, his face as red as his hair.

"Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?" Malfoy sneered.

"Unless you get out now," said Hattie, more bravely than she felt, because Crabbe and Goyle were a lot bigger than her or Ron.

"But we don't feel like leaving, do we, boys? We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some."

Goyle reached toward the Chocolate Frogs next to Ron – Ron leapt forward, but before he'd so much as touched Goyle, Goyle let out a horrible yell.

Scabbers the rat was hanging off his finger, sharp little teeth sunk deep into Goyle's knuckle – Crabbe and Malfoy back away as Goyle swung Scabbers round and round, howling, and when Scabbers finally flew off and hit the window, all three of them disappeared at once. Perhaps they thought there were more rats lurking among the sweets, or perhaps they'd heard footsteps, because a second later, Hermione Granger had come in.


End file.
